IMPORTANT. I HAVE RECENTLY RE-EDITED THIS STORY. THIS INCLUDES ALL OF CHAPTERS 1-9.
AS OF FEBRUARY 2018, CHAPTERS 1-9 HAVE BEEN EDITED. Not so much plot-wise, but more with grammar and tightening of dialogue (as well as replacing dialogue that sounded far too modern). I only do this because it is an older story, and if I continue it, I want the quality to be consistent throughout it. (Though there is one unimportant scene I did cut out, as I felt it did nothing for the story and only hindered the pacing.)
And with the whole age thing. In the books, Frodo is 14 years older than Merry, and Merry is 8 years older than Pippin. Because my story is already going to be slightly AU, I'm going to change their age differences up a bit (Peter Jackson kind of did, so what the heck I guess). In my story, Frodo is about 13 years old in human years, and Merry is about 8/9 years old in human years.
(Also, my Frodo is a bit different from movie-Frodo. He is based much more on book-Frodo, who was quite the trouble-making mushroom thief in his youth.)
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"I don't know about this, Frodo."
Merry, the younger of the two hobbits standing at the edge of a large cornfield, looked up at this cousin warily.
The taller hobbit waved his hand absently. "You worry too much, Merry. I've done this countless times."
"But you're faster than me," Merry pointed out. "And you know your way around every farm field within sight of Brandy Hall, and some even beyond that!"
"Where's your sense of adventure, Merry?" Frodo raised an eyebrow at Merry. "Mushroom thieving is hardly a new hobby for you. Besides," he added. "When I leave Brandy Hall to go traveling like Uncle Bilbo, you'll have to do all of the mischief making by yourself. You've got to keep up our reputation up, you know."
Merry rolled his eyes. How Frodo loved Bilbo's stories. Whenever the older hobbit would visit, listening to Bilbo's fantastical tales was the one thing Frodo looked forward to most. From then on, Frodo had planted the idea in his head that he too would grow up to visit the realm of the elves, meet great warriors, and traverse on long, wonderous journeys. Merry wasn't so inclined to the idea of leaving Buckland for such adventures. He much preferred his own "distant lands" that bordered the Brandwine River and didn't run much further than that.
Still, that didn't mean he and Frodo couldn't have their own excitement right here in Buckland. Besides, what was the harm in taking a few mushrooms? They might not even see Farmer Maggot.
"Fine," huffed Merry. He narrowed his eyes at his cousin. "But you better be telling the truth about those mushrooms. The biggest you've ever seen, right?"
Frodo smiled triumphantly.
"And," Merry crossed his arms haughtily, a sly glint in his eyes. "You have to take me fishing afterwards."
"Deal," Frodo said immediately. "That is, if we survive Maggot's guard dogs."
Merry's smirk dropped from his face. "Wh-what?"
But Frodo was already pushing through the first row of corn.
"Frodo!" Merry called as he stumbled along in pursuit. "You didn't say anything about dogs! Frodo!"
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The cornfield was much larger than Merry had realized. It seemed to go on for hours, row upon endless row of corn rising up in every direction as the hobbits trekked through it. However, as overwhelming as it was, Merry wasn't lost. He'd always had an excellent sense of direction, and it didn't fail even in the never-ending corn rows. He followed Frodo confidently, knowing that his cousin would know the way also, though that was simply because of the number of times Frodo had walked through the field. Without that, Frodo would've been miserably lost. Though he refused to acknowledge it, Frodo had a terrible sense of direction. Merry had no problem reminding Frodo of this whenever the two would go on their little adventures together, much to Frodo's irritation.
Merry looked up through the intertwining cornstalks high above his head. The early afternoon sun watched lazily from above, making it quite warm as the two hobbits pushed their way through the field. Merry swept a handful of tangled curls away from his face, hoping for a slight breeze to cool his flushed skin.
Frodo came to a sudden halt in front of Merry. "Quiet," hissed Frodo. Merry froze, the sounds of his feet trampling through the cornfield dying away.
Frodo shook his head. "Elbereth, Merry! It's a wonder Maggot hasn't set his dogs on us already, with all your stomping."
"You talk about that as if it's bound to happen, no matter what we do," Merry muttered crossly.
Frodo shrugged. "I know how to out-run them."
"Oh really?" said Merry. He pressed his lips into a mocking smirk. "What about when Maggot actually caught you, and then gave you a good lashing before sending you running all the way back to Brandy Hall?"
Frodo shot Merry a glare. "That was one time," he huffed. "And I was a lot younger. About your size, actually." He eyed Merry up and down, a teasing grin flashing across his face. "Perfect chewing size for Maggot's dogs."
Merry stuck his tongue out at Frodo. Frodo chuckled and pushed back the final row of corn, revealing Farmer Maggot's farm, Bamfurlong. Merry made his way to Frodo's side, careful where he walked so as to avoid any leaves that would crunch loudly if stepped on. The two young hobbits peered out of the cornfield, blinking against the bright sunlight.
Rows of cabbages, carrots, and other various vegetables spread out before them. Beyond the rows was a fenced-in grass field where five ponies could be seen grazing calmly. To the left was a large barn.
"Right," said Frodo. "So Maggot's farm has mushrooms almost anywhere you can pick a vegetable, but those are usually the skimpy ones. There are two places that have the best ones, and a lot of them." Frodo pointed towards the ponies' fence. "One patch is between the pony fence and the barn."
"But that's right out in the open!" protested Merry.
"It wasn't a few years ago; it was lined with bushes tall enough for someone your size to hide in. But that's where Maggot caught me, so I guess he took them down to prevent any more thieves." Frodo said the last word with a tone of mock horror, a smirk slipping onto his face. Clearly, he was quite unconcerned with the farmer's efforts to keep unwanted visitors out of his farm.
Frodo gestured to the other side of the farm. Beyond the vegetable rows, the grassy ground dropped over the edge of large hill. A little way down the slope a large tree could be seen. "The second patch is below that tree," Frodo said. He paused, glancing towards the barn. Seeing no sign of activity, Frodo suddenly launched himself from the corn.
Merry cried out in surprise. "Frodo!" After a moment's hesitation, he dashed out after his cousin. Together, the two hobbits flew across the short distance between the cornfield and the vegetable rows. Upon reaching the first line of cabbages, Frodo threw himself to the ground to hide within the vegetation. Merry quickly followed, both hobbits sending dust flying into the air as they landed.
"Nice sprinting, for a hobbit with such short legs," Frodo said cheerfully, once he had caught his breath. Reaching out, he gave his cousin a playful slap on the shoulder.
A puff of dust exploded from the shirt sleeve, making Merry scrunch up his nose to resist sneezing. "Watch it!" Merry said, once the urge to sneeze had passed. "Once I reach my tweens, I'll grow right past you in height."
"Right," said Frodo sarcastically. "Meriadoc Brandybuck, tallest of all the hobbits in Buckland, no, the Shire!" He snickered, to which Merry responded by sticking out his tongue at his cousin.
Frodo glanced at the tree in the distance, Merry following his gaze. Joking with Frodo had somewhat eased Merry's fears about being caught, and the promise of delicious mushrooms was starting to gnaw at him and his grumbling stomach. "Come on, Baggins! You're too slow for me, you old hobbit!" The next second, Merry had jumped to his feet and was running as fast as he could.
"Oi!" Frodo scrambled up from the ground and raced after his cousin.
The two reached the tree at the same moment, Frodo easily catching up to Merry. Diving beneath the low branches, they burst into laughter, clutching their sides as they rolled against each other. Out of the corner of Merry's eye he spotted the large patch of mushrooms Frodo had promised. He sat up in excitement and lunged for them, scooping up an armful in one swipe. "Whoa! You weren't kidding, Frodo – these are huge!"
Frodo sat up with a satisfied grin. "Told you," he said proudly.
Merry was hardly listening, as he was too preoccupied with the mushrooms in his hands and mouth. The two leaned against the tree, content with eating their spoils in the soothing shade.
"Who goes there? Show yourselves!"
Frodo and Merry started, both dropping mushrooms in surprise.
"Oh no," Frodo muttered, upon recognizing the haggard voice.
"We're doomed," squeaked Merry.
The sound of vicious barking suddenly erupted from over the top of the hill. The next moment, three large black dogs stood at the top of the grassy slope. Behind them was a middle-aged, furious-looking hobbit. He was holding a rake, which he waved wildly. Spotting the two youngsters hiding beneath the tree branches, he growled and stalked forward.
"What will it take for me to –" Farmer Maggot froze, staring at Frodo. Frodo smiled sheepishly and gave a half-wave. "You!" Maggot snarled furiously. He scowled and swung his arm up, pointing at the two hobbits. "Get 'em, boys!"
"Time to go, Merry!" yelped Frodo. He sprung to his feet and began running down the hill, pulling a screaming Merry after him. The dogs gave chase, barking ferociously.
"We're going to die!" Merry wailed. He struggled to keep up with his cousin, whose legs were much longer. Frodo cast an exasperated glance back at Merry; noticing he was falling behind, Frodo seized one of the small arms and tugged him closer.
"Not today, cousin!" Frodo led Merry to a narrow foot-pressed pathway that swerved to the right of the sloping hill. A small grove of apple trees loomed in front of them. Without hesitation Frodo dove into it, yanking Merry along.
The two continued to run, the three dogs still in pursuit. Merry didn't dare look back, terrified to see how close the dogs were. Frodo swerved around a rather large apple tree and leapt into the air. With a loud whoop, he snatched an apple off of a low branch as he passed beneath it. With the fruit in one hand and his cousin in the other, Frodo burst through the last line of trees and back into the open fields.
Merry gasped for breath, not sure how much longer he could keep up. "Frodo –"
"Straight ahead, Merry!" Frodo urged. "Come on!"
In front of them was a narrow river. It wasn't the Brandywine, but instead was one of the smaller rivers that branched into it. And – to Merry's amazement – an empty wooden raft was pulled up to the shore.
"Get on!" Frodo commanded, pushing Merry in front of him. Merry immediately jumped onto the raft, the weight of his landing giving it a slight push into the river. He turned around and saw to his horror that the three dogs were nearly to the riverbank, where Frodo was still standing.
"Frodo! The dogs!" Merry yelled. Frodo leaped forward, landing on the raft with a large splash that launched it over the river's surface. The impact put a good few yards between them and the furiously barking dogs, the distance only increasing as the river continued to sweep them downstream.
The cousins twisted around, looking back up the river to stare at the shrinking black forms of the dogs. They could see Farmer Maggot making his way to the river bank, but both Frodo and Merry knew that they were more than safe. Frodo laughed loudly. "Well done, Merry!" He tossed the apple he had been holding to Merry, who caught it easily.
Turning the apple over his in hand, Merry looked down at the raft that had saved them. "How'd you know this was here?"
Frodo grinned. "I made it, silly Brandybuck. You think I'd lead you to Maggot's farm without an escape plan in case we were to be discovered? Besides," he added. "Uncle Saradoc would probably throw me out of Brandy Hall if I let you get eaten by a couple of old dogs."
Merry grinned and took a bit of the apple. He studied the raft, and was both surprised and impressed to see that it had a small rudder with a steering pole attached to it. "You even put a rudder on it! Where'd you get it?"
"From Uncle Bilbo, last time he visited," explained Frodo. "I wrote a letter to him asking about rudders for my raft, and the next time he came to Brandy Hall, he had one with him. He helped me attach it." Looking pleased with himself, Frodo pulled a mushroom from his pocket (where Merry was sure Frodo had stuffed many more for later) and popped it into his mouth.
"You know, that was rather fun," Merry said after a few moments.
Frodo looked at his cousin. A sly smile crept onto his lips. "Oh, really?"
"Yeah, you should take me again sometime!"
"What about the dogs? You were screaming about your imminent death not ten minutes ago."
Merry threw Frodo a dirty look, but grinned in spite of himself. He shrugged, taking another large bite from his apple. "Well, as long as we have an escape plan, we'll be okay. Or we could raid other farms besides Maggot's, too."
"Sure," Frodo agreed, popping another mushroom into his mouth. "But Maggot's is the most fun to go to – he gets riled up over it so easily."
Merry laughed. "Well, next time I choose which farm we're going to."
"Sure, Merry." Frodo leaned over, ruffling his cousin's curls affectionately. "I'll make a proper thief out of you yet, Meriadoc!"
Merry smiled brightly. He shifted his position on the raft so he could dip his feet in the cool water. The two were silent for a few minutes, munching happily on their prizes as they watched the riverbank pass by.
"So," said Frodo after a few moments. "You wanted to go fishing, right?"
Merry spun around to face Frodo, excitement clear on his face. "Yes!"
"Well then, let's get the poles and bait and see if we can catch something before Aunt Esmeralda comes searching for us for dinner."